Breaking the Habit
by FutureTVwriter
Summary: Collaboration with Fic Fairy. How does-n't  Olivia cope with her mother's death, what does a serial nun killer have to do with it, and what role will Elliot play? Elliot:"Liv, your mother loved—" Olivia:"Don't say she loved me. Don't waste your breath."
1. Chapter 1

**Breaking the Habit**

Collaboration with Fic Fairy. It's going to be a long and epic ride. Takes place after Olivia's mother dies, how will she cope (or will she?), how will she deal with a serial killer case that hits close to home, and what role will Elliot play?

**A/N: Minor change, Olivia's mom died around season 7-8 for reasons that will be evident later. Elliot's kids ages: Maureen: 21, Kathleen: 18, Lizzie/Dickie: 15 **

"Serena Benson will be greatly missed in the Siena College Community. She has served on the admissions board, honor's society, and earned a prestigious tenure as the head of the English Lit department several years ago. She was always available to assist her students, implemented fundamental changes into the curriculum, and was always generous with her time and was truly a beautiful person."

She was wearing a simple, conservative black dress, that she was sure she would never wear again, standing in front of her mother's casket staring down at the woman she both loved and hated her entire life. She felt a presence next to her and turned to see a short stodgy man with white hair and glasses in a tweed suit, definitely a professor.

"Hello," the man greeted her with the usual awkwardness that came with wake conversations.

"Hi," Olivia responded, not in the mood for any more small talk.

"I'm Professor Barnett," the man continued, extending his hand.

She politely shook his hand, "Olivia Benson."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for your loss…how were you related?"

"Um, she was my mother." Olivia replied awkwardly.

The professor was visibly stunned, "Oh dear, I wasn't aware she had any children."

That was like a knife to the heart although she wasn't as surprised by his statement as she thought she'd be. Why should she be? Of course her mother wouldn't have talked about her at work, wouldn't have mentioned the fact that there was living breathing person walking around with half of her genetic material. But even though she wasn't completely surprised she felt tears brimming in her eyes. As she unsuccessfully tried to come up with a response to the professor standing in front her she felt a comforting hand on her shoulders. She turned around and was never more grateful to see Elliot standing behind her.

"Hey, how're you doing?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

She quickly wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall, "Better now."

Elliot looked around, surveying the room, "Who are all these people?"

Olivia glanced around the room herself, "I'm not really sure. Mostly fellow professors I think."

"You made it easy for them to get to having it at the college." Elliot replied.

"She wanted it here. She planned everything out, didn't want to be a 'burden' to me." Olivia responded caustically, wondering, as she had done several times over the last few days, how her mother, a woman who had been a burden to Olivia her entire life in one way or another, had dared to make such a comment after she was gone. When she knew Olivia would never be able to contest it.

Elliot didn't know how to respond so he just put his arm around her shoulders and turned her away from the casket. She noticed Elliot's family near the back of the chapel and the kids came towards her. Maureen was the first to envelope her in a hug, "Olivia, I'm so sorry." Kathleen was next followed by the twins. Olivia was touched that they would all come to her mother's wake, "Thanks for coming you guys." She said, looking to Kathy as well.

Munch, Fin and Cragen appeared from the doorway and joined the group. They huddled around Olivia in a bubble of support talking about nothing of significance, only trying to be there for her.

"Did you know that wakes held today come from ancient customs of keeping watch over the deceased hoping that life would return?" Munch offered during a particularly long silence. The group enjoyed a much-needed light chuckle at his incessant need to share knowledge.

Olivia was torn away from the group to accept more condolences from people she didn't even know. Elliot watched her closely, wondering how she would deal with all this, figuring that she would clam up after the emotional day of the funeral was over and pretend that everything was business as usual.

Lizzie clung onto her mother's arm, "Do I have to go up to the dead body?" she asked nervously.

Kathy put her arm around her daughter's shoulder, "No sweetie, it's okay, you don't have to."

Olivia was now alone next to the casket once again watching Kathy lovingly rubbing her daughter's back and toying with her hair. This scene brought more tears to her eyes than her mother lying dead in the casket next to her. Never once could she remember her mother soberly stroking her back in a loving manner or reassuring her in the least. When she was drunk? Yeah, then she could pull it off. But never sober. She'd not been worth that, not to her mother. Not like Lizzie was to Kathy.

So fixed was she on the mother daughter relationship playing out in front her that she didn't notice Elliot come up next to her.

"Do you want me to stay and drive you home?" he offered.

"No, it's okay. I think I'm gonna clean out my mom's office while I'm here. Get everything done with."

"I can help you with that," he responded earnestly. Typical Elliot, wanting to think he could take all the pain away, wanting to think he had all the answers. She was grateful to him, for him, for the fact he was in her life, but she knew it wasn't true. He couldn't really help her, any more than anyone else could.

"I'll be alright. I'd rather be by myself for awhile." She responded quietly.

That was what he was afraid of, "Alright but you know you can call me if you need anything."

"I know Elliot. Thank you," she said as she squeezed his hand. "Your family's waiting for you."

He gave her one last hug before joining his family and leaving the chapel.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

Olivia snuck out of the wake before everyone had left in search of her mother's

office. She turned the key over and over in her hand before finally inserting it into the lock and opening the door. She entered her mother's lair and a chill went up her spine. The room was lined with bookshelves and framed pieces of art and her desk was littered with student papers and lesson plans. Looking around the room there was one thing that was glaringly absent from her mother's personal space: a single picture of her daughter. There were pictures on her desk of her with friends, co-workers, and even a few students but not one of Olivia. Not a single solitary reminder of the fact that she had a daughter, clearly she didn't want to be reminded of her existence. Olivia sank into her mother's chair fully feeling her mother's neglect and resentful feelings towards her.

She opened the bottom drawer of the desk and was nonplussed to find a giant, half empty bottle of scotch inside. Here was the mother she knew, the alcoholic. Not the person that everyone in the chapel was talking about like a damn saint. She placed the bottle on the desk in front of her and pulled out the glass that was in the drawer next to it. She stared into the golden liquid in the bottle and wondered what it was about it that stole her mother away from her. Why it was so seductive, appealing, addictive? Did it really take away her mother's pain or was that just her excuse to get bombed off her ass? It was a question she'd asked herself so many times. As a kid, watching wide eyed as her mother knocked back measure after measure; as she'd found her slumped on the couch in a heap, an empty bottle at her side; and as she'd sat outside the bathroom in the morning, listening to her mother vomiting into the toilet bowl.

And now, she was asking it all over again…

But not about her mother. Not this time. Now she was asking that question for her own benefit. Because, in her current state, Olivia felt drawn to the liquid sitting in front of her. Wanted to slosh out a glassful, the way she'd seen her mother do so many times, and throw it down her throat. Down it in one. Use it to make all the pain go away, just like her mother used to.

Maybe feeling numb wouldn't be so bad right about now.

After all, how could she feel any worse?

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **


	2. Chapter 2

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 2**

She took a deep breath and unscrewed the bottle top, carefully, cautiously, like the liquid inside might jump out and burn her. It wasn't like she'd never drunk before; as a cop, the bar just down from the precinct had pretty much been a second home to her, after the first home that was the squad room and before her own apartment. But that was different, that was being a cop, that was enjoying the camaraderie of a drink or six after work. That wasn't drinking alone, or getting bombed for getting bombed's sake. Not like this was.

She poured the amber poison, as she'd always considered her mothers drink of choice to be, into the tumbler, and then just held it, staring down into it. She could almost see her mothers face there, taunting her, telling her to drink it.

That had actually happened once. She'd been 14, 15, her mom had been out of it once again, and she'd just snapped. Tried to convince her that she was wrong to live her life from inside the bottle, but her mom wasn't having any of it. She'd screamed at Olivia, her face contorting angrily.

"Why don't you just shut up and live a little? You can't knock it until you've tried it. You wouldn't stop me then, once you knew how alive it could make you feel. Hell, it's saved my life all these years."

Another classic example of Serena Benson's style of parenting.

As she lifted the glass to her lips, her thoughts turned back to Kathy. Their relationship - if you could call it that - had always been polite, but distant, but that didn't mean that Olivia didn't respect her as a mother. She was amazing. She stayed at home with her children, something that Serena, even if she could have, would never have done in a million years. She was understanding, protective, and comforting. Everything Olivia had always wanted in a mother for herself. She would have been elated if, just once, Serena had been protective of her, worried about her, but she never was which is how Olivia developed her keen ability of self protection, both physically and emotionally. If you let people in, drop your guard, you're going to get hurt, one way or another.

The Scotch hit her lips, startling her. It tasted as her mother used to smell, 90% of the time. It was ironic that she'd always worn the most expensive perfumes and yet to Olivia the scent she mostly associated with her was that of a drunk. The thought almost made her stop in her tracks, but then she realised she wanted it, needed it, and so opened her mouth and tipped the glass upwards, knocking the measure that she'd poured back in one.

She waited for something to happen. Nothing did. So she poured a second, and then a third, and fourth. And gradually, she did start to feel different. She wasn't sure it was the sense of euphoria her mother had talked about, but she was definitely leaving it all behind, and that could only be considered a good thing.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

She had no idea how much time passed, only that by the time she'd finished packing up her mothers office, it was dark outside and the bottle was finished up too. She looked at the boxes, her viewpoint a hell of a lot fuzzier than it had been when she'd arrived and then, after removing just a few personal effects; her mother's Mont Blanc - a present from Olivia herself, bought with her first NYPD pay cheque, a first edition book, and a piece of art she particularly liked, she left, leaving the boxes behind. There was no point in taking them, they meant nothing to her. The university could burn them for all she cared.

She walked across the quadrangle outside her mother's building, surprised by how unsteady she was on her feet. Never had walking in a straight line been so complicated. So complicated in fact that half way across the lawn she stumbled and fell onto her back, looking up at stars.

She reached out for something to hold onto to help herself up, but found herself with nothing more than a handful of grass and daisies. As she looked down at the little white and yellow flowers in her hands she found herself transported back to her childhood, to memories long since forgotten.

She'd been here before. Spent hours sat here in the summer, making daisy chains while her mother lectured at summer school students inside the college building. She couldn't have been more than 4 or 5 but she loved it, because people would stop to talk to her and make a fuss of her. Sometimes people even brought her ice creams, and lemonade from the cafeteria. She'd never had that much attention paid to her in her life and it felt good.

But then, she wasn't sure when, it stopped. Her mother never brought her back again. She'd never known why, what she'd done to deserve being left at the apartment with a chain of sitters who just ignored her and sat on the phone to their friends in her mother's study.

What had she done? Why had she suddenly become an embarrassment to her mother? It wasn't like she hadn't been a product of rape since birth, so it couldn't just be down to that. She must have done something wrong. Maybe, she pondered further, she had gotten old enough to hold a conversation. Old enough to tell anyone who asked who her mother was and, possibly, what kind of mother she was. Serena couldn't risk anyone finding out that the little girl sitting in the quad by herself was, in fact, her daughter, and who knew what little chatterbox Olivia would tell anyone who asked about her home life.

Just as she was pondering this, she became aware of flashlight being shone in her eyes and as she squinted through the light she could just make out a man in uniform stood over her.

"Ma'am? Are you ok?"

She nodded. Although she wasn't ok, not by a long shot but she didn't need anyone fussing over her. She was just enjoying lying there, on the lawn, thinking.

"Well ma'am, I'm from the campus police, I'm gonna have to ask you to move along."

She fumbled in her pocket pulling out her badge, "I'm NYPD." she said, holding it out, "And my mother is dead. My mother who lectured here. So if you can just give me a minute to reflect, I'll be on my way."

He reached down, taking her badge from her and scanning it before handing it back to her, crouching down beside her as he did so, and smiling at her.

"Ok Detective Benson, but don't stay out here all night. The last thing I need is a stiff on my hands. I'm sure you can appreciate that." He got to his feet and then he was gone.

She looked up at the sky again, wondering morbidly where her mother was at that moment, thinking for a brief moment that maybe she should be looking down instead, and then wondered why exactly she'd even care. Her mother had never cared where she was, what she was doing. Even when she'd become a cop she could get away with going weeks without calling home, and her mother had never complained. She could have died in the line of duty so many times and the woman who had given birth to her would never have known. Or probably even cared.

Just as she was thinking that particularly cold thought, her cell rang. She pulled it from her jacket pocket and glanced at the caller ID. Elliot. She was tempted not to answer because he'd know she was drunk and would no doubt make it into a much bigger deal than it actually was. But she also knew if she didn't answer he'd worry, and probably have the Feds on a manhunt for her within the hour.

She hit the call receive button, "Benson."

"Its me." He said, unnecessarily she thought given the fact he'd called her cell, which had the nifty little ability to KNOW it was him before she answered. "I just wanted to see how you are?"

"I'm in a quadrangle." She replied, thinking instantly what a dumb response it was, especially for someone who was pretending to be sober, and yet, her mouth just kept going and spouting crap, "There are daisies. And there are stars."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone that spoke volumes. She knew what that silence meant. It was Elliot's "I'm worried about Olivia but I'm worried about pissing her off so I'm looking for a tactful way of handling it" silence. She'd heard it a lot. Especially in the last week or two.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Liv," he said hesitantly, "you're slurring your words."

She hadn't actually noticed that but as she responded, attempting to sound innocent by asking, "Am I?" she realised that she was indeed slurring her words. Damn.

Well there was only one way to deal with that. Growing up with a drunk had educated her well in that sense. If you get caught out, get defensive.

"I just buried my mother. If that doesn't justify having a drink then I don't know what does. So just butt out Elliot."

There was another one of those long silences and then Elliot spoke again, "Benson, do you know you're only ever shitty to me when you're hurting." She opened her mouth to deny it, but realised she didn't have a leg to stand on. In which case, there was only one way to deal with the situation, and that was to cut him off. Literally in this case.

"Thanks for coming today Elliot." she said, "I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

And then she hit the call end button before he could say another word.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **


	3. Chapter 3

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 3**

Olivia woke up to her alarm blaring the next morning and threw it off of her nightstand. She put her hand over her eyes wishing for relief from her already pounding head. Opening her eyes she realized that she was still in her black dress and shoes from the day before and she didn't remember a single detail about getting herself home. The last thing she remembered was lying in the quad talking to Elliot on her phone, although she couldn't remember what she said to him. She turned her head and saw the box of belongings she had brought home from her mother's office, "So it wasn't just a dream," she said to herself.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

Olivia trudged into the squadroom and saw that she was the last one to arrive. She threw her bag down on her desk and saw that there was an extra large cup of coffee and two Tylenol tablets waiting for her.

She looked across her desk at Elliot, "What's this?"

"Figured you'd need it this morning," he replied without looking up from his paperwork.

She wanted to toss the steaming coffee in his holier than thou lap, but she realized she needed the caffeine more than she needed to teach Elliot a lesson and sat down at her desk. She downed the Tylenol in one gulp and shot a "thank you" in his direction.

Once Elliot determined that his gesture had been peacefully accepted he looked up from his paperwork to give his partner a once over. Their phone conversation from the night before had worried him and her current appearance was doing nothing to quell his concerns. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was matted, and her skin was pallid.

"How ya feeling?" he asked, testing the waters.

"Like shit." She replied bluntly.

"You could've taken today off you know…"

She closed the file she was looking over and met his gaze, "I'd rather not be alone with my thoughts right now."

He didn't know how to take that statement and didn't want to risk pissing her off so he let it slide for the moment. He knew how complicated her relationship with her mother was so he could only imagine the thoughts that had been going through her mind this past week.

Cragen emerged from his office with a notepad in hand, "We just caught a murder."

"What homicide's too busy to do their job?" Fin asked.

"One Police Plaza thinks the deceased qualifies as a special victim." Cragen responded.

"Who is she?" Olivia asked.

"Sister Bernadine from St. Celestine's on Lennox."

"A nun?" Elliot asked, shocked.

"They're not touching the crime scene until you get there." Cragen informed them.

"Just when you think this job can't get any more depressing," Elliot said to no one in particular as they all got up and exited the squadroom.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

The crime scene was on the third floor of the rectory building at St. Celestine's parish. Elliot, Munch and Fin raced up the stairs while Olivia dragged herself up far behind them, "of course we'd have to climb three flights of stairs today" she muttered to herself. When she reached the third floor she almost ran into Elliot who had stopped dead in his tracks from shock. She peered around him and was met with the sight of the gruesome crime scene. Sister Bernadine lay on the floor, still in her habit, covered in blood. The furniture was displaced throughout the room indicating a struggle but most disturbing of all was the picture that was neatly drawn on the wall in the victim's blood of an upside down cross.

Once Elliot got over his initial shock at the scene he approached Warner who was already examining the body.

"What can you tell us?"

"Judging from rigor and liver temp I'd say she's been dead between two and four hours. Cause of death was a stab wound to the left side of the chest, unfortunately it was the last blow so she was alive for the rest of them. All 22 of them."

"Son of a bitch," Elliot mumbled under his breath.

"Do we have a murder weapon?" Olivia asked, joining in the conversation.

"Not yet, looks like something very pointed and thin." Warner responded. "I'll have more for you once I get her back to the lab."

"Who found her?" Munch asked to the room at large.

"I did," an older nun said as she came forward.

"And what's your name?" Munch asked.

"Sister Agnes, Sister Bernadine was my roommate." She responded, clearly upset.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, how long had Sister Bernadine been at this parish?" He asked as he escorted her away from the body lying on the floor.

"Only a few months, she was just ordained. She was such a sweet girl." Sister Agnes said, tears beginning to fall.

"Did she have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt her?" Munch

asked delicately.

"Everyone loved her."

"Where was everyone this morning that left Sister Bernadine here alone?"

"We were all at breakfast, Sister Bernadine hadn't come down so I thought she overslept. I came back up to wake her…" she trailed off, crying.

"Thank you, you've been a big help. We'll call you if we need anything else." He said trying to be reassuring.

Olivia and Elliot were scoping out the room looking for anything that could be useful in their investigation. Olivia opened up a bed side table and pulled out a small notebook, "El check it out."

"What is it?"

She flipped through the pages, "Her diary."

"Bag it, let's get out of here." He replied.

Olivia wasn't about to protest. She just wanted to get out of there. Dead or alive, nuns gave her the creeps.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

After canvassing the neighbors and trying to find out everything they could about the church Elliot and Olivia headed back to the precinct.

Elliot sped down the streets of New York causing Olivia's stomach contents to painfully slosh around inside of her and her brain to rattle in her skull.

"Geez El take it easy," she scolded him.

He was in a trance and didn't notice how badly he was driving. "If you can't take working today you should just go home," he spat at her.

"I would be fine if you'd stop driving like a maniac," she spat back at him.

"Or if you hadn't downed a bottle of gin last night…or was it scotch?" he mocked her, which surprised her. He could be a patronising bastard sometimes, but wasn't usually cruel with it.

"Do you have something you'd like to say to me?" she asked loudly, snottily, not liking his attitude.

He shot her a look of pure contempt, "Of course this case wouldn't bother you."

She grimaced. Of course, no wonder he was in such a funk. Religious cases always set him on edge. And yeah, she got that, it was clearly a sensitive subject for him, but that was no reason to make her life a misery. Religion wasn't exactly her topic of choice either.

"What I'm supposed to walk on eggshells around you just because a Catholic was killed? You don't ask any of our other victim's what religion they are."

He slammed on his breaks in the middle of an intersection causing cars to swerve around him and blare their horns, "She was a NUN! Show some respect!" he bellowed.

"Elliot you're in the middle of the street, drive."

Elliot did as she instructed but he wasn't through with his rant, continuing it as he started the car again, "And don't even mention walking on eggshells," he continued.

"Meaning?"

"I've been walking on eggshells around you for over a week, not wanting to upset you because God forbid I show any concern for you. God forbid I ask how you are, offer to drive you home, keep you company. Everything I do is interpreted as me thinking that you're somehow incapable."

There was a silence as he finally finished, leaving the two of them looking at each other awkwardly. He couldn't remember ever having been so harsh with her, and she, for her part, started to feel a little guilty, knowing that if she'd pushed him to that point, she must have behaved pretty appallingly the night before. She opened her mouth to apologise, but circumstances overtook her.

She took a deep breath, her head once again pounding. "I'm gonna be sick,"

she said as she opened her door and threw up in the street. Elliot put the car in park and attempted to collect his thoughts while he waited for her to finish. She sat up again and he silently handed her a Kleenex. She wiped her mouth off and rested her head against the headrest willing her mind to stop spinning.

"Okay?" he asked before driving off.

"Yeah you can go." She whispered.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

"So what do we know about our victim?" Cragen asked as the squad was huddled around a white board.

"Sister Bernadine, 24 years old, newly ordained. She was only at St. Celestine's for a few months." Elliot surmised as he taped her picture to the board.

"No known enemies." Munch added.

"There's a shock," Fin quipped.

"Did you guys get anything off the canvass?" Cragen asked.

"Just that everyone loved her, no complaints about the church." Elliot answered.

"Forced entry?" Cragen asked.

"Yeah the lock was picked on the back door." Fin answered.

"There was an upside down cross drawn on the wall in her blood," Olivia added as she taped a picture of it to the board.

"Do we know what that symbolizes?" Cragen asked, directing his question towards Elliot.

"It's a sign of mockery. Rejecting Christ." Elliot said disdainfully.

"So we've got someone pissed off at the Catholic church." Cragen guessed.

"That's a long list of people," Munch began.

"Who kills a nun?" Elliot asked angrily.

"Someone with a major grudge," Fin offered.

"How're we gonna narrow it down?" Munch asked to the room at large.

"Hopefully the lab will have something for us to go on," Cragen commented.

"Warner said she wouldn't have anything for us until tomorrow morning," Elliot informed them.

Cragen looked at his watch, "Well then I guess there's nothing we can do until then. Go home, get some rest, you all look like you need it," he finished, directing his last comment towards Olivia.

They all retreated to their desks to gather their things.

"Need a ride?" Elliot offered.

"If you promise not to drive like a madman."


	4. Chapter 4

Breaking The Habit

Chapter 4

* * *

"Last night…" Olivia said tentatively, once they'd left the precinct parking lot and were headed towards her apartment, "was I a bitch?"

Elliot glanced at her, trying to work out whether he ought to take the pissy route again, or play the concerned father. She was a fan of neither, he knew that, but it had to be one or the other. He debated it, but momentarily before deciding that concerned father it was.

"You don't remember?"

She shook her head, "No. I remember you calling but not much else."

He sighed, "I'm not really surprised. Nothing you said made a hell of a lot of sense."

"But was I bitchy?"

He nodded, and then waited for the backlash, not knowing whether to be relieved or concerned when it didn't come. He looked at her again, trying to read the expression on her face, but he got nothing, other than the fact that she still clearly felt like shit. "Are you ok?" he asked.

She just shrugged,"Had better days." She murmured by way of a response, before adding, "You?"

He was surprised by her question, having gotten the impression earlier in the day that she had enough on her own plate to be getting bogged down with what was going on in his head. She must have registered his shock because she smiled self consciously, "What? I know you Elliot. You get your intense look in your eyes any time a case involves cassock or habit."

She was being sincere, but somehow, Elliot managed not to see it that way, glaring at her angrily, "You think my religion is funny?"

Truth was, Olivia though ALL religion was pretty funny. Especially the Catholic faith. But the mood her partner appeared to be in she thought better of saying so. Instead she just sighed, "Just forget I said anything."

The car lapsed into an awkward silence, leaving each of them alone with their own thoughts; Elliot dwelling on the apparent state of their relationship which seemed to be disintegrating more and more with each conversation they had, and Olivia feeling increasingly sorry for herself, and dreading the moment she'd step into her apartment, the door would close behind her and that would be it until the following morning. Sure, she needed sleep, but there were no guarantees it would come, not with everything that was going around her head, and if it didn't, it would be another really long and painful night.

It was that thought that prompted a change in her heart, as she decided that she wouldn't go home after all. "El…" she said, hesitantly, "can you drop me at the nearest subway stop?"

He looked at her quizzically, "Why?"

"I'm going to go over to my mom's. Start packing the place up."

For all they were at odds over, well, just about everything, Elliot didn't like the idea of her taking on the task alone. After all, he'd left her to do something similar the day before and that had apparently ended pretty badly. He swung the car into a different lane, all set to head in the direction of her mother's place. "I'll come with you."

"You don't have to do that." she said quietly but obstinately, "Its kind of you, but she was my mom. I should do it myself."

There was no point in arguing with her, Elliot knew that. When Olivia made her mind up about something, that was it. It still irritated him though. He wanted to help, was desperate to help, and she was just having none of it. He kept his eyes firmly on the road, knowing that if he looked at her he'd get the urge to shake her until she saw sense and let him in. "Fine, but I'm dropping you off. it's the least I can do."

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

Serena's apartment, much like her office, held little to indicate that she'd ever had a daughter. Minimalist and impersonal, the only thing that Olivia discovered which revealed anything about her mother's personality at all was the vast amount of half empty liquor bottles that she found squirreled away in cupboards around the place. It was curious, she thought, the fact that they were hidden. She'd obviously done more entertaining of other people within those particular walls than she ever had with her daughter. Once she'd left home, Olivia had seldom been invited back here; the two of them generally meeting in restaurants, as if spending time together in a home - even one as impersonal as this one - would have been too much for her mother.

Once she'd found the first few bottles, in the course of her packing, she became curious as to how many there were, so she put the packing to one side, and began to search more purposefully. More like a cop. And once she did, it didn't take long to start turning up more and more 'evidence'. Bottle after bottle appeared, proving that her mother's apartment was the best stocked bar in town. She tossed them into a box that she dragged with her for the purpose. She wasn't sure what she was going to do with them, but she sure as hell wasn't leaving them there for anyone else to find.

There she went again. Protecting her mother. Just like always.

She was in the spare room, her old room which her mother had pretty much stripped bare the day she left, when she discovered that the demon drink wasn't her mother's only dirty little secret. That there was something else she kept hidden from view, where no one else would see it.

A box. Shoved into the built in closet at one end of the room. Olivia yanked off the lid, which was covered in dust, expecting to find more bottles. But no. Instead there were photos. Photos of her.

Her stomach lurched a little when she saw the top one. It was her graduation shot from the Academy, which she'd bought for her mother because she'd been too "busy" to attend the ceremony itself. Once it had been in a solid wood frame that had cost Olivia close to her first month's paycheck, but now the frame seemed to have been discarded and the photo lay unwanted in a dusty box.

God it hurt. Badly. She'd once sat in the squad room listening to the boys bantering about their own graduation photos. In Fin's mother's house, his hung by the front door, the first thing visitors saw when they arrived. One of Munch's ex wives had actively sought custody of his during their divorce (strange, yet true) and Elliot's hung over his mother's mantlepiece, plus on Kathy's bedside table, and there was a small version in her purse. They'd asked her about hers, well Fin and Munch had, Elliot had just sat there looking concerned, and she'd just had to make her excuses and leave the room. Her reply would have seemed pretty pathetic compared to their stories.

"I have one by my bed. And my mom has one… somewhere…"

Blinking back tears she got to her feet and went into her old ensuite bathroom, grabbing the glass tumbler that used to hold her toothbrush. That too was dusty but she used her shirt to clean it before heading back to the boxes of photos and alcohol. She selected a bottle at random and poured a large measure before retreating to the bed with the photos. And the bottle.

She put the graduation photo to one side and started sifting through the others. There were few very of her as an adult, the bulk being of her childhood and teenage years. Some people might have thought that the very fact that they existed at all must have meant that her mother wasn't as bad as all that, but she knew better. She knew that the small box was all there was. The only photographic memories of her past. And she thought that was pretty pathetic.

And speaking of pathetic…

She picked up a pile of Polaroid photos, all taken the same day by Olivia herself. She remembered taking them, and giving them to her mother. She'd been about 8 and her mom had been having a really bad spell. There had been a lot of tears that Olivia had felt guilty at not being able to stop. One night, having left her mom crying in the kitchen, she'd sneaked the camera from her mom's room, and gone into her own and taken a whole load of photos of herself pulling different faces and big cheesy grins.

"Mommy's Smiling Set" she'd called them. Pictures that were meant to make her mother laugh. She knocked back her drink, musing just how well that hadn't worked. Pretty much like everything she'd ever tried actually.

She carried on working her way through both photos and the bottle of whiskey, until she found a photo she'd long since forgotten about. She picked it up, and brought it closer to her, since it, along with everything else seemed to be a bit fuzzy all of a sudden. She looked down at her 14 year old self, clad in the most horrific school uniform that had ever existed. Pale blue shirt, burgundy tie, blue and burgundy plaid skirt, burgundy blazer. She'd hated the uniform nearly as much as she'd hated the school. Although that was only a fraction of how much St Mary's had hated her.

She peered closer, taking in the crucifix that her grandmother had brought her to help her fit in, and then grinning when she spied the stud in her nose which she'd got to make sure she didn't. She'd loved that stud so much, even more so when it had got her kicked out of the school, the week after the photo had been taken.

It was hardly surprising. She wasn't exactly Catholic school material. She'd driven the nuns to distraction with her rolled up skirt, countless hickeys on her neck and bad attitude although her bad attitude towards them was nothing compared to their treatment of her. It was a miracle she'd lasted as long as she had, and getting her nose pierced the day before photo day was the crunch point.

It had been something of a result as far as she was concerned, although her mother hadn't been impressed. Still, that hadn't bothered her then and it didn't bother her now. Nothing her mother had done had ever really impressed her either.

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Hours later, Olivia woke, still on the bed where she'd passed out not long after looking at the school photo. The room was spinning, and her cell phone was ringing persistently, assaulting her addled brain with its irritating ring tone.

She took it from her pocket and fumbled with the keypad until she finally managed to answer it, "Benson."

"Liv, another nun's been killed."

She groaned inwardly at Elliot's words. Marvellous. Just what she needed.

"I'm on my way to get you."

She sat up gingerly, her head pounding, "I'm still at my mom's. Can you come here?"

"Sure." Elliot said, and then, proving that even when they were at odds he still knew her too well, added, "I'll bring coffee."

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Elliot pulled up outside Olivia's mother's building to find her sat on the steps, looking more than a little worse for wear, and cursed at himself for not following his gut instinct and staying with her when he'd dropped her off. She'd obviously been drinking again, which was apparently becoming a habit, and with her crumpled suit and messy hair she looked a long way from her normal professional self.

He got out of the car and moved to her side, handing her the coffee he'd picked up on the way.

"Triple espresso." He said as he looked her up and down. Close up the damage was even worse than it had been from a distance, "I'm taking you home." he added decisively.

She shook her head in protest, "El, I'm fine." But as she stood he couldn't help noticing that she was wobbled slightly, unsteady on her feet.

"You're drunk." He told her. "You've been drinking and your drunk and if I take you to the crime scene Cragen's going to bust your ass."

She threw herself into the passenger seat obstinately, then waited for him to join her and glared at him when he did so, "I have had A drink, and not slept well. Stop for another coffee on the way and Cragen won't even notice. Now," she continued, noticing they were still stationery, "are you going to drive or do I have to swap places with you and take the wheel myself?"

He glanced over at her hands, shaking violently as they clutched the coffee cup and sighed as he turned the key in the ignition, "No. Its fine. I'll drive."

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	5. Chapter 5

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 5**

After picking up yet another cup of coffee for Olivia they arrived at St. Vincent's parish, not three blocks away from their original crime scene at St. Celestine's. This time the crime scene was, much to Olivia's relief, on the first floor of the rectory. The place was buzzing with activity: crime scene techs collecting evidence, uniformed officers securing the scene and talking to witnesses, Melinda examining the body, and the detectives taking in the scene. Olivia's eyes wandered to the inscription written on the wall, apparently in the victim's blood once again, that read:

"_No one born of a forbidden union may enter the assembly of the Lord. Even to the tenth generation, none of his descendants may enter the assembly of the Lord." _

She read it several times but recognized it the instant the words entered her mind. She looked from the body sprawled out on the floor to the writing on the walls to the terrified nuns gathered around the scene and finally to her partner who had grown silent.

"El," she began, "You alright?"

He was snapped out of his daze and met her concerned expression, "Fine." He spat angrily. "You might want to pop a breath mint though," he said to her spitefully as he walked towards the body, passing a crucifix hanging on the wall and instinctively performing the sign of the cross before kneeling next to the victim.

"How long?" he asked shortly, it was too late at night and too disturbing of a scene for any of the usual pleasantries.

"An hour, tops." Melinda responded.

"Same as the last one?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. The final blow was the fatal one, she felt every hit." Melinda responded, wishing there was some way to sugarcoat it.

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"Victim number two is Sister Viola," Cragen said as he hung her picture up on the bulletin board. "What do we know about her?" he asked as he turned to face his detectives. Elliot was pacing back and forth across the room, too enraged to stand still. Fin and Munch were seated at their desks pouring over witness statements. Olivia was slumped over at her desk, the booze from earlier had drained her life force and she just prayed that no one would notice that she was about to fall asleep.

"She's the newest nun at the parish, just like our first victim," Fin offered. "Which also makes her the youngest."

"No one heard anything; he apparently broke in through the window. No prints." Munch surmised.

Elliot continued to pace getting angrier by the second, "The key is the writing on the wall."

"Well you're the resident Catholic," Munch began, "what's it mean?" he asked as he dropped a few witness statements in front of Olivia. As he did he caught a distinct whif of whiskey radiating from her pores. He scrutinized her further and registered her rumpled clothing and tossled hair, but realized that this wasn't the time to question her.

"The upside down cross was easy, it's a mocking of the church." Elliot answered him.

"And the passage?" Cragen asked.

"I've never heard it before; I'd have to look it up." Elliot responded. They all looked at him, a little surprised that he didn't know the passage. "What?" he asked after registering their surprise. "It's not like they made us memorize the whole Bible."

"It's from Deuteronomy," Olivia said quietly, almost to herself.

Elliot turned on the spot to stare at his partner, shocked. The rest of the squad waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.

"What?" Elliot asked, taken aback. "You know this Bible passage?" he asked in complete disbelief, thinking she was faking it, mocking his religion one more time.

"Uh yeah it's from Deuteronomy, I don't know the exact verse number..." she trailed off.

"How could you possibly know that?" Elliot asked.

"Why does it matter? That's what it is." she said defensively, hoping he would drop it.

Elliot wasn't about to drop it, he stormed over to her and leaned down, getting right in her face. "It matters to me damnit!"

Cragen, Munch and Fin watched the scene unfolding in front of them in pure disbelief. They're resident agnostic who usually couldn't get out of a religious conversation fast enough had recognized a Bible passage that the devoted Catholic wasn't even aware of. Olivia moved her chair back and stood up to get away from Elliot before replying, "Because I went to Catholic school for awhile okay?" she responded. Elliot's mouth dropped open; he was, to say the least, stunned. He looked at each of his colleagues to make sure he heard her right and when he saw the equally stunned expressions plastered on their faces he continued.

"You what?" he yelled loudly as he moved towards her. "YOUR mother put you in Catholic school?"

That stung, that he knew her mother wouldn't have cared about her enough to do such a thing, wouldn't have even bothered considering it. "No, you know damn well that she wouldn't have spent that kind of money on me. My grandparents did."

"I feel like I don't even know you anymore! We've been partners for how many years and you never once mentioned that you went to Catholic school, obviously long enough for you to remember Bible passages? You ALWAYS question my faith, question the church, never admit to believing in anything..." he trailed off, realizing.

She used his momentary silence to pounce. "It's clicking in now huh?" she snapped. "Remembering my upbringing now are you? Remembering that I didn't have a father? Look at the passage Elliot!" she yelled as she moved towards the board that held a picture of the passage from the crime scene to point at it. "No one born of a forbidden union may enter the assembly of the Lord. Even to the tenth generation, none of his descendants may enter the assembly of the Lord! You're a smart Catholic, you know what it means. Wanna know why I remember it? Know where it's from? Why it's on the tip of my tongue?" Tears began to form in her eyes, "Because those damn nuns drilled it into me from the day I entered that school! They told a six year old child that she and her mother weren't getting into heaven because her parents weren't married. Who would believe in a God like that?"

The room was once again silent as Olivia wiped a stray tear from her cheek and continued to glare at Elliot.

"Okay," Cragen interjected as he moved in between his fuming lead detectives, "Why don't we all take a breather."

Elliot released Olivia from his death stare and headed off in the direction of the elevators. Olivia inhaled deeply and rubbed her temples where a headache was threatening to emerge. She got herself a cup of coffee and was cornered at the coffee table by Munch.

"Religion has a tendency to be behind the times," he offered.

"Don't worry about it John, I'm over it. It was a long time ago."

"But your mother just died..." he countered.

She was quiet for a moment, considering. "Well I'm sure her marital status was not on the top of her judgment list." She grabbed two aspirin tablets out of the bottle seated on the table and downed them with her coffee.

"Maybe you should take a nap." He suggested.

"I'm fine." She responded unconvincingly.

"Alcohol gets out of your system faster if you sleep it off…" he said, clearly overstepping his bounds.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.

"Hey, I've been divorced enough times to know the sweet release that alcohol gives you from the incessant thoughts swarming through your head and the stabs to the heart. But."

"But what?"

"Have you ever heard of complicated grief?"

"No John, and I'm really not in the mood for one of your theories."

He went on, ignoring her last statement, "Complicated grief happens when we lose someone suddenly and when our relationship with that person is either extremely close or contradictory. Death shatters our entire worldview."

"John, I appreciate your concern, really, but I'm fine."

"People who experience this don't grieve at all and go about as if nothing has happened, develop reckless behavior, or they even begin to start acting like the deceased person…"

"My mother was a falling down drunk who couldn't manage to leave her favorite watering hole without crashing down the subway steps to her death." She said harshly catching the attention of not only Munch but Fin and Cragen as well. "I had a few glasses of whiskey tonight, when I was off duty by the way, while I was packing up her booze soaked apartment. There's a difference. And don't you dare go psychoanalyzing me when you have no idea what I put up with from that woman my entire life." She was shocked at her own audacity, shocked at the words that had just poured out of her mouth. And even more disturbing than what she had said was how she had just gone off, exploded. It was so unlike her yet familiar in some way. It was so Serena. She moved away from Munch, her breathing became rapid as did her heartbeat. "I'm sorry John, I didn't mean to…"

He moved towards her, genuinely worried about her at this point, "It's alright, I've gotten worse."

"Olivia," Cragen called to her as he moved forward. "Maybe you should take some time…"

"No." She interrupted him. "Don't send me home." Her voice was almost pleading with him.

He recognized her desire for the distraction that work provided for her but he could also see that she was at the end of her rope, "Alright, but at least get a few hours of sleep in the crib."

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	6. Chapter 6

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 6**

Olivia knew when she was beaten and so, reluctantly she nodded her head slowly and started to walk away, headed for the crib room. She got no further than the squad room door however, before she realized she was being followed, and when she turned to see who was responsible she found Fin standing there, the same concerned expression on his face that the boss and Munch were also sporting.

She sighed, "What? Is it your turn now? Why can't you all just leave me alone. I'm fine."

"Ok. Ok." Fin held his hands up in what she supposed was meant to be a calming gesture, but it didn't feel like it, "I'll drop it." he continued, "But if you need someone to talk to baby girl, I'm here."

She felt a lump rising in her throat as he called her baby girl. He was the only person in her world who had a term of endearment for her like that. No one else seemed to care enough. That said, she wasn't about to confide in him. How could she? She had nothing to say.

"I'm fine." Olivia repeated, "But thanks." Then she turned and left the room without another word.

When she reached the crib room her heart sank when she found Elliot there, pacing the floor. She thought about walking straight out again, but her crib of choice looked too inviting so instead she stalked past him and threw herself on to it, closing eyes hoping that it would help her to forget about his presence.

No such luck.

"Sleeping on the job now Benson?"

She opened her eyes, and glared at him, "Captain's orders."

"I told you he'd be pissed at you."

"He's not pissed at me." she snapped back, "He's concerned. Which is irritating as hell, but at least he cares, unlike some I could mention."

Elliot looked at her stubborn, scrunched up face and got the urge to smack her. Not that he would, but it was tempting. He was concerned, very concerned, but she wasn't exactly acting in a way that made that particularly easy. "You need to get a hold of yourself." he told her.

"I do?" she raised her eyes at him, "I'm not the one who's gone all silly over the cast of Sister Act."

"Well at least I'm not behaving like I agree with what the perp is doing." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he could tell instantly how much she was angered by them. She sat up, glaring at him, her eyes blazing,

"You really think I feel that way?"

He shrugged, "I don't know what you're feeling these days, and I doubt you've been sober for long enough in the last week to know either. Like I said, you need to take a look at yourself…" He left the room to a barrage of abuse from her that he could still hear continuing halfway down the corridor and returned to the squad room, heading straight for the Captain's office, barging in without bothering to knock.

"Take Benson off this case."

Cragen looked at him, eyes raised, "I'd take you off of it first. It's your fist any potential perp is likely to walk into."

"You've got to be kidding me." he replied incredulously, "Yeah, I'm a Catholic. Yeah, it pisses me off that someone out there is persecuting nuns, but I can work this case. You don't see me showing up to work drunk."

The turn around in Olivia and Elliot's relationship didn't surprise Cragen. Their usual fierce loyalty towards each other had a habit of going out of the window when religion came into the equation, and yet, he was taken aback by the extent to which their relationship had fractured. Far from supporting his partner with her personal problems, he seemed to be hell bent on dragging them out in the open and making an issue of them.

"I'm watching her back." he told Elliot, "You should be doing the same."

Elliot opened his mouth to retort but didn't have chance before Fin burst into the room,

"He's tried it again."

Cragen's eyes narrowed at the detective's choice of words, "Tried?"

He nodded, "Tried, failed. The vic is still alive…"

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The four of them went directly to the crime scene, leaving Olivia sleeping in the crib room. They'd contemplated taking her, but time was of the essence, and when Fin had looked in on her she was already dead to the world.

When they arrived at St. Pascal's the vic, Sister Elizabeth was sat in the back of an ambulance, being treated by a paramedic. Elliot approached her, bowing respectfully as he did so, before showing her his badge.

"Detective Stabler, Sister." he glanced at the man bandaging her arm, "How is she?"

The paramedic grinned, "She's good. Minor injuries. Would love to see what shape the perp is in though." he nodded towards the nun, "Orange belt in karate apparently."

Elliot stared at the nun, astounded, "Karate?"

She smiled, "I learnt as a child. I thought I'd forgotten it, but it came back when I needed it."

"He got away though?" Elliot asked.

"Unfortunately. He'd cut my arm so I couldn't restrain him."

"You've been very brave Sister." he said reverently, "Could you describe him?"

"Of course." Elizabeth replied before describing the man in detail they could only have dreamed of hours before. Seeing Elliot's surprise she smiled knowingly at him, "When I wasn't learning karate, I was reading Nancy Drew books, Detective."

He smiled back at her and then shouted out to his colleagues, "Can we get a composite artist down here please?"

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Olivia awoke from her deep sleep and was confused at what she heard, nothing. Not a sound was coming from downstairs. She made her way to the squadroom and was disheartened to find it empty. They had abandoned her. She'd already been taunted by dreams that seemed to consist solely of Elliot and her mother hurling abuse at her, and discovering that her colleagues had ditched her just compounded how miserable she was feeling.

Well quite frankly, screw them. If they didn't need her, then she sure as hell didn't need them. She grabbed her jacket from her desk chair, and scrawled a pissy note for them on the blackboard, right by the map marking the crime scenes where she was sure they'd see it.

She went to leave then, only pausing when she realized something, she wasn't sure what, was niggling her. She turned around, retracing her steps and eventually ended up in front of the map again. There were three pins now, obviously another penguin had been hit. But that wasn't what had gotten her attention. What had got her attention was the positioning of the pins.

She ran her finger over the map, and finally found what she was looking for. She marked it with a yellow pin, then used a marker pen to join that to the red one marking the first crime scene, and then the remaining two which marked crime scenes two and three.

Then she stepped back and with a smug smile looked at the upside down crucifix she'd created.

On that evidence, she knew exactly where the perp would hit next.

She reached for the nearest phone and dialed Elliot's number. When he eventually answered he sounded distracted.

"Yeah… Stabler… what?"

"El, its Liv. I think I might have a break on the case."

At the other end of the line she heard him snort, "What did you do? Dream it? Forget it Liv, we've had the break we needed, and we didn't need you to find it."

She opened her mouth to ask about the nature of the break, and then to force him to listen to her but then thought better of it. What was the point? If he didn't want to listen to her then that was his luck out. She'd been right the first time.

They didn't need her. And she didn't need them. What she needed was a drink.

Within minutes of hanging up on Elliot she was walking through the doors of the nearest bar to the precinct. She wasn't on the job anymore apparently so she figured she might as well enjoy herself. She threw herself down onto a bar stool, slammed a 20 on the counter and smiled at the bartender,

"Scotch please, and keep the change for my next one."

He complied but looked at her skeptically, "You alright lady?"

"Never better." she lifted her glass, making a toast, "To Julie Andrews." and then tipped it down her throat, enjoying the burning sensation it caused. She slammed the glass back down on the counter, "I guess I'll have that next one now."

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"This is the rat bastard we're looking for." Elliot slammed the drawing the composite artist had done up on the black board, then jolted slightly when he happened to catch sight of the crime scene map, "What is this?" he said, eyeing the new additions to the map. "Another hit?"

Munch came up beside him and peered at the handiwork, "No. A hit would be in red. Whoever did this used yellow." he traced his fingers over the pen lines, "An upside down crucifix with the final point landing on." he peered closer. "St. Cyprian's. A final target maybe?"

Elliot grimaced, "Is this a message from the perp? Is he playing us?"

Munch shook his head, "Nah. Not a perp. Your partner." he indicated the short but not particularly sweet message written next to the map,

'Since you didn't bother to wake me, I've assumed I'm not needed and gone. Thanks for nothing. Liv'

"She needs to grow up." Elliot spat.

"She needs to get back here." The Captain interjected, "She's got us a solid lead Elliot, a lead we all missed" he said firmly, "she's obviously up to the job."

"Whatever."

Cragen, Munch and Fin exchanged a myriad of concerned looks. It was clear that they each thought that the situation with their two colleagues was getting out of control but were powerless to do anything about it. That being the case, Cragen decided, it was better that they get on with the job.

"So what's the way forward."

It was Munch who came up with the solution, "We'll we've had 3 days, 3 targets, 1 unsuccessful, but I'm not sure that matters. Is it fair to assume that he's likely to hit target number 4 in the next 24 hours?" when the guys nodded he continued, "Then we need a presence there."

Fin shook his head, "You put police on the doors, he's not going to go anywhere near it."

"He might if he's a sociopath." Munch argued, "Anything to get the job done right? But I was suggesting something slightly more subtle. Let's stick Olivia in a habit."

"What?" Elliot, who had just taken a mouthful of coffee proceeded to spit it all over his desk, "You have got to be kidding. Olivia? Undercover? As a nun?"

Munch shrugged, "As she proved earlier she can out-quote you with ease, and she'll look better in the gear that you would too."

"I think it's a good idea." Cragen spoke up. "She fits the victim profile, she's young, and she knows how to handle herself. If anything kicks off, she'll deal with it."

Elliot threw his hands up in the air in disgust, "Fine! Just don't come crying to me when she drinks the communion wine."

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She was on drink number four when Fin appeared at her side. He took the stool next to hers and looked at her questioningly.

"You didn't wake me." she murmured, by way of an excuse for her drinking, and then added, "And Elliot was an ass to me when I called him with my lead."

Fin smiled, "It was a good though. Captain's impressed."

She shrugged, pretending the praise meant nothing to her, but actually, it was nice to hear that there was someone who appreciated her. She signalled to the bartender anyway, set on getting another drink, but Fin grabbed her arm.

"Stop it." he said, "Stop it now. We need you back at the squad room. Captain's got a job for you…"

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"You have got to be kidding." Olivia shook her head, laughing as she did so, and in doing so realising that she was in danger of coming across like a crazy drunk. She sipped the coffee that she and Fin had picked up on the way back from the bar and shook her head again. "I am not wearing that."

Cragen moved over to her, dropping the nun's habit on her lap, "You are." she opened her mouth to argue but she didn't get chance before he continued, "Thanks to you, we have a target Olivia."

"So what?" she grimaced, "Now you want to make ME the target. I don't even do the whole religion thing. Send someone who does. Send Elliot." a tiny suppressed giggle emerged from her, and she just couldn't help it, the whole thing was ludicrous, "Yeah. That's a much better idea. Let Elliot go in as a priest. Much more sensible."

"Actually," Fin broke in, "that's not the worst idea she's ever had. Two sets of eyes are better than one." Plus, he privately thought that someone being on hand to keep an eye on her would be no bad thing. Granted, Elliot probably wasn't the best person, and he'd rather have done it himself, but there was no way he was passing as a priest.

"Fine." Cragen nodded, "Can someone get hold of a cassock? Lets gets this operation on the road…"

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	7. Chapter 7

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 7**

Elliot stood guard in the wings of St. Cyprian's gothic cathedral dressed in a cassock and collar. The pastor was holding a prayer vigil for the nuns who had been murdered and Elliot listened thoughtfully as he spoke of their dedication to the church and their reward in heaven. He eyed the crowd like an eagle searching for prey; they assumed that the killer would take sick pleasure in attending the memorial of his victims. His eyes scanned each and every pew before he finally landed on Olivia seated in the second row awkwardly wearing a habit looking like she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

Olivia squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. This was like torture to her, to be forced to attend church and pretend to be deeply moved and affected by what the pastor was spewing. She would need several more drinks, hell bottles, before she would buy into any of this. She would take chasing after a gun wielding perp any day compared to this. She vainly tried to adjust the habit she was forced to wear, she had no idea how complicated these outfits were before she was being shoved into one by the Mother Superior who had not taken kindly to her disparaging remarks about said outfit. She carelessly began to fumble with the cross hanging around her neck, subconsciously feeling like it was strangling her. She twirled it around her fingers and swung it back and forth to amuse herself before Elliot caught her eye and gave her a stern, fatherly, 'cut it out NOW' look. She rolled her eyes at him and let it fall back against her chest.

Elliot shook his head at Olivia's blatant disrespect. She was really pushing her luck these days. His eyes moved to the back door of the church and he saw a man who perfectly fit Sister Elizabeth's description slip in. His muscles tightened and his jaw clenched, he could feel it in his bones, this was the guy. He wanted to pounce, throw the sick bastard into the wall, dare him to fight back, but he restrained himself. They had to play it out, wait for him to make the first move. The man scanned the pews much in the same way Elliot was but for a far more devious reason. His gaze landed on Olivia, clearly the youngest in the group of nuns, and he meandered up the aisle and slid in the pew directly behind her.

Olivia glanced around the church, taking in the elegant architecture. She had to admit, it was a beautiful building. She caught sight of the stained glass mirrors and flashed back to being forced to attend church services in grammar school. She remembered idly swinging her legs back and forth in the pew and losing herself in the beautiful pictures constructed out of glass making up new and, she thought, far more interesting stories for what they meant. As she tried to focus on the mosaics her vision blurred and she felt a headache coming on, maybe she had had too much to drink after all. A shiver went up her spine as she felt a presence appear behind her. She looked to Elliot who, with a fleeting look, told her that, yes, their perp was seated right behind her; their bait had worked. She pretended to listen to what the pastor was saying about heaven and God's will for a few more minutes before slipping out of the pew and heading towards the rectory. Within seconds the man slipped out of his pew as well and walked in the same direction.

Olivia slowly walked through the dark, eerily silent, rectory. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her. The thick carpet muffled her footsteps and the smell of incense was almost choking her, making her eyes water and turning her stomach. If she closed her eyes she knew she would be back at St. Mary's, it amazed her how every church smelled exactly the same. The paintings of saints hung on the walls seemed to be following her; she forced herself to look away. Her muscles tightened, she knew she had been followed. She kept her pace even; her eyes focused in front her. She had to be the bait; she had to let herself be vulnerable.

The man trailed several steps behind her, using the thick carpeting to his advantage. She would never hear him come up behind her. He pulled his knife out of his pocket preparing to attack. As he quickened his pace to catch up to her he lifted the knife in the air preparing to slit her throat. He was no more than three feet away from her, knife poised, his arm going in a donward motion towards her—

"Freeze!" Elliot yelled from several yards back. "Drop the knife."

Olivia turned on her heels, her gun pointed straight at the perp. "Do it. Now."

The man starred down the barrel of Olivia's gun and immediately dropped the knife to the ground. Olivia kicked it away from him and Elliot approached from behind. He placed his arms behind his back and 'accidentally' slammed his face against a wall to subdue him. Cragen, Munch, and Fin emerged from another entrance.

"That's enough Elliot." Cragen warned.

"He resisted." Elliot spat.

Fin removed the perp from Elliot's custody before he could do any real damage and placed him under arrest.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

Elliot and Olivia returned to the sacristy to return their holy garb. Elliot respectfully began to disrobe, placing each item of his cassock reverently on the table. Olivia, on the other hand, began tearing off the many layers of her outfit the second they entered the room.

"Finally," she began, "I don't know how they wear these damn things everyday."

"Show some respect," he spat at her.

"For the penguin suit?" she laughed.

"For the institution." He said sternly, his volume rising.

She rolled her eyes, "You know that get up really suits you. Ever thought about a change of careers?"

He ignored her.

"Oh what? You're not gonna talk to me now?"

"Not when you're like this."

"Like what?"

"Drunk."

"Drunk? Did I not just take down a perp? Did I not just do my job?"

"I took him down. You just sat there and looked pretty."

She grabbed onto that statement, "Pretty huh?" she mocked him. She pulled the habit tighter across her body, showing off her curves. "Is this what does it for you then? You and Kathy ever do a little role playing? Maybe they'll let you take that outfit home with you—"

"Shut up!" He screamed at her.

"Oh Elliot," she teased, "I've sinned. Will you hear my confession? Give me absolution?" She began a strip tease with the habit, seductively removing the veil and moving to undo the buttons across her chest. He grabbed her arms firmly, forcing her to stop.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he screamed at her, his face mere inches from hers.

"Oh c'mon El," she continued, "You know you like it." She bit the air in front of his face, trying to be sexy. He threw her away from him.

"You're out of control." He yelled at her. She was pushing all of his buttons, they both knew it. His rage was boiling over, the veins in his forehead bulged, his face reddened.

"You need to take some time. Get your act together. I can't put up with this." He ranted.

"What the hell are you saying?"

"I don't know you anymore! And if I don't know your next move I can't protect you, and I can't rely on you to have my back…"

"You son of a bitch! Don't you dare—"

"Liv!" he stopped her. "You need to get your head together."

"Don't tell me what to do." She said firmly. She grabbed her bag from the table and stormed out of the sacristy, still in the skirt from the habit.

"Where are you going?" He yelled after her but she was already gone. He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes, wondering what had become of his partner.

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

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	8. Chapter 8

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 8**

As she walked away from St Cyprian's, Elliot's harsh words ringing in her ears, Olivia finally got it. Finally worked out the answer to the question that had evaded for so many years. Why was alcohol so great? Why did her mother like it so much? It was simple. So simple that she didn't know why she hadn't figured it out before.

You could rely on alcohol. Yeah, it got you wasted and made you feel like shit, but at least you knew it was coming. At least it didn't just turn around and metaphorically slap you in the face.

Like Elliot had.

He'd been her one constant, the best friend she thought would never let her down, and yet overnight everything had changed. They were partners, they were emotionally invested in that, and suddenly he was prepared to walk away? To leave her?

She never saw that one coming.

And while maybe, just maybe, she'd pushed him too far with her stupid role-playing comment, he needed to loosen up, get a sense of humor. It wasn't like she'd meant it.

Still, the deal was done. Elliot didn't want her anymore and that was fine with her. Who needed a partner with a stick up their ass anyway. She'd work with Fin. She'd work with Munch. Work alone if she had to. Maybe she'd be better off that way.

Not that she was working right now. She had something else in mind. She needed a drink. No. Actually, that was wrong, she didn't need a drink. She wasn't her mother. She just wanted one. Or several. Just a little pick me up to get over the shock of spending the afternoon dressed in a penguin suit.

The first bar she came to was just on the wrong side of seedy, ironically enough considering its close proximity to the cathedral, but she decided it would do anyway. She pushed open the door, made her way to the bar, and hoisted herself up on to a bar stool, an act that took some effort considering the length and weight of her skirt. She glanced down at it, cursing as she did so. If there was such a thing as hell, she was going there for this one. She dug through her bag and pulled out her purse, discovering seconds later that thanks to her earlier exploits it was almost empty. She cursed a second time then slipped a credit card out and waved it at the bar tender. He looked at her curiously,

"What do you want lady? Minimum charge on a card is $20.

It wasn't the kind of establishment that had a cocktail or wine list so instead she peered at the bottles lined up behind the bar, selecting quickly, "Bourbon please."

His eyes narrowed, "Won't make the minimum charge with one of them."

"I meant the bottle." The words tripped off of her tongue, as already she was justifying them by thinking that she'd take what was left of the bottle home. She opened her mouth to tell the bar tender that too but he didn't bat an eyelid so she didn't bother. With a glass, and the bottle installed in front of her she poured it out and began to drink, still seething from Elliot's actions, Elliot's words, Elliot's rejection. Yeah, that was what hurt the most. The rejection. She was sick of being rejected. Her mother, Elliot, they were the same deep down. Her mother had preferred alcohol to her, and Elliot, well, he took religion over her every time.

She'd had enough. It wasn't going to be that way anymore. Not for her. She didn't deserve and she wasn't going to put up with it, or - more importantly - put herself in the path of it. From now on, she was going to invest emotionally in no one but herself.

She was just toasting that thought with a second drink, the first having disappeared within seconds of pouring it, when she realized that she had company. She turned, sensing someone's eyes on her, and came face to face with a guy who was staring at her with a bemused look on his face.

"What are you looking at?" she asked him defensively, looking him up and down, taking in his appearance. He was a Latino man, dressed well, too well for a bar of such obvious disrepute and seemed to be doing a nice line in showy gold jewelry. It didn't take much working out; dealer or loan shark, either way, hardly the type she wanted to be engaging with. Still, her attitude didn't put him off, and he grinned at her in a way she suspected was supposed to be charming.

"What am I looking at?" he winked at her, again, 'charmingly' being the word that came to mind, "I'm looking at the drunken nun. Not a sight you see every day."

In spite of herself she smiled at her words, thinking what a pleasant change it made to find someone who took religion so lightly. She knocked back her drink and then smiled at him primly, "I'm a nun on the run. I've been fucking a priest but turns out he prefers little boys."

The charmer chuckled, "Is that so. I have to say Sister, you've got quite a mouth on you."

Olivia laughed, "So I've been told."

"I can believe it. Can I get you a drink?"

She shook her head, but far from discouraging him as she'd expected to, she took the opportunity to keep the conversation going, "I've got a bottle if you want to get a glass?"

"Love to." He signaled to the bar tender to bring another glass, then turned his attention back to Olivia, looking her up and down again, "So what's your name Sister?"

"Sister Mary Stabler." Again, her mouth seemed to be running away with her, but she just couldn't help herself and found herself giggling like a naughty school girl, which was disconcerting in some ways but felt good in another. She didn't remember the last time she'd had anything to laugh about. She smiled at him, "And you are?"

"I'm Jesus. Jesus Christ." He held out his hand to her, and she shook it, laughing again, "Nice to meet you, we've been waiting for you to come back." He picked up the bottle of Bourbon from the counter, topping up her glass and filling his own, before looking at her curiously once more, "Seriously Sister Mary, what's your story?"

She shook her head, dismissing his question, "I don't talk about my story." she told him, "I thought that was the point of drinking in a place like this. You can be whoever you want to be."

He smiled knowingly, "Sure thing. Sounds good to me. So what do you want to talk about?"

"Who says I want to talk?" She came close to gasping as she realized what she'd said, and how she'd said it. It wouldn't take Einstein to work out what was being implied, and as it happened 'Jesus' worked it out pretty well on his own. He looked at her questioningly,

"Something else involving your lips?"

She grabbed at her glass, drinking from it, Dutch courage she guessed. It wasn't exactly her style, hitting on the criminal element in bars, but somehow it felt fitting today. She was fed up and alone. Maybe a kiss… a grope… would help. She certainly couldn't feel any worse. She drained the glass, and then looked at him, leaning forward and laying her hand on his thigh, "Got it in one."

He leant towards her, brushing his lips against hers, although pulling back straight afterwards, eyeing her suspiciously,

"Hang on. You're not a pro are you? You know, what with the costume and everything."

The question amused her and she laughed out loud, "No! I'm not a pro! What's your problem? Worried I'm going to hit you with a check when you're done?"

He snaked his arm around her back, pulling her closer to him, "Ooooh, a fiesty one. Nice. My apologies. I just can't work you out. A pretty lady like you, putting yourself out there on a platter. Seems a bit crazy."

Olivia shrugged, "That's the kind of girl I am. Crazy as they come."

"You'll go crazy when you cum. That's the kind of boy I am."

Quite aside from how corny his line was, it also set alarm bells ringing in Olivia's head. Joke or not, there was no way she was intending on taking it THAT far, and knew that if he was implying that, that was what he was after she had to be careful not to let things get out of hand. In fact, she ought to put a stop to it there and then.

But yet…

"I'll be looking forward to it."

Not quite the way of putting a stop to it that she'd had in mind. Even less so when she found herself moving in to kiss him again. She knew it was wrong, but yet, she couldn't stop herself, and before she knew what was happening she was kissing him hungrily.

Then she felt it. His hand. On her stomach - in the waistband of her skirt - between her legs.

And Elliot's words came back to her all over again.

'_You're out of control' _

She was in a bar before night fall. Drunk. Letting herself be touched intimately by a stranger. In public.

She was out of control

She twisted away from him, feeling color rising in her cheeks as she realized the barmen and several of the clientele were getting an eyeful of what they were doing. She yanked his hands away, but it only took one look at his face to see that she wasn't getting away that easily.

"I'll be right back." she stammered, "I'm just going to use the ladies room."

'Jesus' smiled salaciously, "Hurry back baby."

In the ladies room, she threw up, guilt and shame consuming her. She couldn't believe it had come to this. Elliot had been right all along. Breathing deeply, trying to avoid being ill again, she looked at her options. There was no escape via the front door of the bar, not without the slimy asshole seeing her. If she wanted to leave, there was just one way to go.

She looked up at the small window above the grimy cracked faucet, took a deep breath and pulled herself up to climb through it. It was a squeeze and she came close to falling, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part came as she landed in the alley that ran behind the bar.

"Hey Sister Stabler."

She spun round to find 'Jesus' standing there, an evil glint in his eye, "Were you leaving without saying goodbye?"

She opened her mouth to offer up excuses she'd yet to even think of but she didn't have chance before his fist made contact with the side of her face.

"Looks like I've worked out what your story is. You're a tease eh?" he hit her again before she had chance to recover, "You're a dirty. Little. Tease."

She put her hands up to protect herself from the blows that he rained down on her, but her best defense, she knew, could only be offered up verbally.

"I'M A COP!"

Usually, such a declaration might have worked, but on this occasion, it didn't and she knew she only had herself to blame.

"Cop? Nun? What kind of crazy assed dress up box do you have at your house lady? And where's the fucking ho outfit cause that would be way more your style."

He lurched towards her, pushing her back against the wall, but she finally managed to gain an advantage and shoved him backwards, using the moment in which he was stunned to pull her badge from her jacket,

"I'm a cop." She said again, waving the badge in his face, "Det. Olivia Benson, Special Victims, NYPD."

He stopped in his tracks, looking at her ID, his face falling as he realized he'd just bashed one of New York's Finest, and only beginning to imagine the trouble that could cause. He stepped back, holding his hands up submissively, "Ok lady, look, I'm sorry. Can we just forget it?"

She knew she ought to cuff him there and then; if he was willing to beat up one woman who spurned his advances he'd been willing to beat up them all. But she couldn't do it, couldn't have her own actions dragged through the courts for everyone to hear. And so, she nodded, "Fine. But I know your face. And if you so much as look at another woman the wrong way, I'll find you and you'll pay. Understood?"

He nodded, and then, he was gone, leaving her alone to sink on to the floor of the alley, as her eye throbbed, blood poured from her nose and tears fell from her eyes.

She couldn't do this anymore. She needed help, and there was only one place she was going to get it. It wouldn't be easy and it was going to involve one hell of an apology, but she had to do it, because she needed him.

She needed Elliot.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 9**

Olivia paced outside Elliot's door working up the courage to knock. It wasn't too late, but showing up on his doorstep was never something she took lightly. Even when it had to do with work she would always try to call first, not wanting to invade the other realm of his existence, his family, lightly. She knew that he shielded his family from the harsh reality that was his work and she assumed she was a part of that. Her existence made his work real to them, especially to his wife. But this was different, this wasn't about work, this was about her, needing him. Needing him to snap her out of her current deluded reality, needing to apologize to him, and needing, above all else, to not be alone right now. That was the catch, he kept his family shielded from his work, never breathing a word about the horrifying tragedies they dealt with day after day, but he never shielded her from his family life. He spoke of them often and in great detail and although she hadn't spent much time with the Stablers she felt as if she knew each of them very well. He never wanted to hurt his family with the personal details of his job, but he never saw talking about his family to her, something she desperately wanted and would probably never have, as being wrong, taboo, or just plain hurtful. Every time he mentioned Lizzie's dance classes, Dickie's football, or Maureen and Kathleen at college her heart ached. Thinking about it now almost made her run for the hills, seeing a happy, nuclear family in her current mental state would probably send her over the edge. She looked back to her car parked in the driveway and moved to get her keys out of her bag. As she did so she noticed her hands shaking violently and was reminded of the blow to head to she had received not an hour earlier by the onset of a headache. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door quickly before she lost her nerve. She heard footsteps approaching the door and was surprised when Maureen answered; she had never considered the possibility that anyone besides Elliot would answer the door.

"Olivia! Hi." Maureen warmly greeted her father's partner.

"Hey Maureen, is, uh your dad home?" Olivia asked.

"He just ran to the store, mom's visiting her parents in Jersey and we ran out of milk and cereal. He should be back soon. Do you want to come in and wait for him?" the eldest Stabler offered.

Olivia was unsure of what to do, while she was relieved that Kathy wasn't home (she didn't think her partner's wife would be too keen on entertaining her while she waited for her husband) Elliot was pretty upset with her the last time they spoke and she didn't think he would appreciate her being in his house when he wasn't home.

Maureen took a closer look at the detective standing in front her, noting the bloody nose, shaking hands, and generally anxious demeanor that the strong, confident woman didn't usually possess. She had noticed that her father was in a bad mood earlier and when she had pressed him on it he had admitted that he and Olivia had been working a tough case.

"Olivia, come inside." Maureen said, not asking this time.

Olivia allowed Maureen to usher her into the living room and when she walked past her Maureen smelled the distinct odor of alcohol. Kathleen, Dickie, and Lizzie came bounding down the stairs to see who was at the door.

"Olivia!" they all said mostly in unison as they entered the living room to greet her.

"Hi guys," Olivia said, trying to hold back the pain in her voice at being so warmly greeted by children.

The kids noticed that something was off and looked to Maureen for guidance.

"Lizzie, Dickie, don't you guys have a science project due tomorrow?" Maureen cued them.

"Yeah." Dickie responded.

"And are you finished with it?" Maureen asked.

"Almost," Lizzie offered.

"Upstairs. Now." Maureen commanded.

"But we want to talk to Olivia," Lizzie began before being cut off again by Maureen.

"If Dad comes home and that project isn't done you're going to be in big trouble."

"Fine." The twins said in unison as they ambled back up the stairs.

Now alone with the two oldest Stabler children Olivia shifted her weight awkwardly praying for Elliot to come home soon.

"Why don't you sit down," Maureen said as she motioned towards the couch.

Olivia obeyed.

"What happened to your nose?" Kathleen asked cautiously.

Olivia's hands immediately went to her face and she blushed with embarrassment as the events of earlier that night flashed through her mind.

"Oh, uh, work, you know…" she said, not really giving an explanation.

"I'll get you something to drink," Maureen began, "How about some coffee?"

Coffee. Clearly Maureen had inherited her father's perceptiveness but Olivia didn't object. She didn't want to pick a fight about her drinking with a 21 year old.

"That would be great, thanks." Olivia said quietly.

Both girls went into the kitchen. Maureen went about preparing the coffee and Kathleen grabbed a towel, soaked it with warm water, and brought it back out to the living room.

"Here," she offered the towel to Olivia, "For your nose."

Olivia gratefully took the towel and held it against her throbbing nose. The healing power of heat never ceased to amaze her. Kathleen sat down on the couch next to her and Maureen emerged from the kitchen shortly after with a mug of coffee and handed it to Olivia.

"Thanks you guys, you're so sweet." Olivia said sadly.

"Olivia what's wrong?" Maureen asked with great concern.

Olivia took a deep breath. Never had she felt such a sense of family as she did right there sat in between his partners children on his couch. That said she wasn't about to lay out her problems to them.

"Nothing sweetheart," she said unconvincingly. "Tell me about school. How are you doing?"

Maureen, like her father, recognized Olivia's evasiveness as well as her need to just have someone talk to her, even if her mind was miles away.

"School is great," Maureen began. "I'm a psychology major…"

Olivia didn't comprehend much after that, but was eternally grateful for the young women sitting next to her, welcoming her into their home, and just being with her.

* * *

Elliot pulled into his driveway and immediately noticed Olivia's car sat in his parking space and his anger began to rise in his chest once again as he remembered their last conversation. He opened his front door, grocery bags in hand, and was shocked at the sight that met his eyes. Olivia was crumpled on his couch with a badly swollen nose, still in the nun's skirt, apparently being comforted by his daughters. Maureen got up off the couch as soon as her father entered the room.

She collected the groceries from his arms, "Be nice Dad. Something's wrong." Maureen warned before motioning for her sister to help her put the groceries away leaving Elliot and Olivia alone in his living room.

Elliot wanted to be angry. Wanted to blast her for coming to his home. Belittle her for not being able to hold herself together. But as he took in her current appearance he realized that none of that was necessary, she was probably doing a pretty good job of beating herself up without him adding insult to injury, literally, as it were, with her apparently broken nose.

"What happened to your nose?" he asked. Breaking the silence as he sat down next to her.

She inhaled sharply, her sadness rising in her chest. She buried her head in her hands began to sob. This was definitely not the reaction Elliot was expecting. His last traces of anger escaped him as he placed his arm around her shoulders. The much needed human contact as well as the whiskey from earlier only fueled her sobs as she turned her body towards him and threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, wanting to shield her from all the hurt she was feeling. He gently rubbed soothing circles on her back as she sobbed uncontrollably. She was grieving, he realized, finally grieving for her mother and for herself. She finally let out everything she was holding in. They remained entwined for quite some time before her sobs finally began to subside and her breathing normalized.

"Liv, talk to me." He said softly in her ear.

They fell back against the couch but remained close to each other. She grabbed the towel off of the coffee table and attempted to wipe her face off but hit her nose and winced in pain.

"I went to a bar after I left the church, I had too much to drink and too little self respect and ended up getting pounded in the face by a guy named Jesus because I wouldn't fuck him in the cesspool of a bar." She spoke quickly and into the towel against her face, skating over details but giving him the big picture.

"Did you get a good look at him? His…actual name?" Elliot asked, his anger rising as he thought of anyone hurting her.

"He said his name was Jesus Christ. He was going with the nun angle…" she explained.

"We'll get him, what bar were you at?"

"El don't. I let him go."

"What? Why?"

Shame flashed across her face. "I wouldn't want anyone reading that report…" she responded quietly.

He immediately understood.

"Liv, even if you… provoked him it still doesn't give him the right to—"

"I know El, but I've been hit much harder and I'd rather not relive it."

He nodded silently, realizing he wasn't going to win this one he changed gears.

"So about earlier," he began, treading lightly.

It was guilt that flashed across her face this time as she remembered how horribly she had behaved.

"I'm so sorry El. I never meant to—"

"It's okay, it's okay," he assured her.

"No. It's not. I was a bitch. I had no right to talk to you like that. No right to disrespect your faith. You're right. I'm out of control, you deserve better…"

"That's not what I was saying. I was angry. And in the heat of the moment I—"

"Said what you really mean." She finished for him.

"No. I didn't mean it. I never meant that I didn't want to be partners anymore. I could never want that. I just meant that I don't know how to help you. I don't know what's going on with you. Ever since your mom died…"

She visibly reacted to that last part and he knew he struck a nerve.

"What? What is it?" he ventured.

She took a deep breath. "Ever since my mother died I've been going over and over my entire childhood in my head. I finally came to the conclusion that alcohol was her one true constant in life. Her one true love. And I guess I just wanted to see if it was all she made it out to be and look what happened. I turned into her."

"Liv, your mother loved—"

"Don't say she loved me. Don't waste your breath."

He was silent.

"She didn't have a single picture of me in her office or in her home. Not one. I found them in a dusty box shoved into a closet. I was a stranger at her wake. The guy who gave her eulogy was shocked that I existed and felt the need to tell me that. Felt the need to tell me that my mother never mentioned me. Why didn't she mention me El? Why did she stop taking me to school with her? Why did she pour her soul into the bottom of an empty bottle instead of talking to me? Loving me? Caring about me?"

She was rambling, they both knew it, but they also knew she needed to go on. To finally let it out.

"No wonder I can never have a successful relationship. I don't know what it means to be loved. To let anyone in. My shining example in life was a drunk who couldn't look at me without reaching for a bottle. I disgusted her."

"Liv—" Elliot began but she cut him off and began pacing picking up the many pictures that were displayed throughout the room.

"And I look at you and your beautiful family and I know I will never have that. You're daughter's are so sweet and kind. Maureen is just like you. Perceptive, caring, intuitive. What do I have to pass on? Alcoholism and rage."

"It's not what you're made of Liv, it's what you make for yourself." Elliot finally broke in. "You are strong, caring, empathetic, brave and so much more. You are nothing like your parents Liv. Your mother was a coward and I hate her for what she did to you. Don't let her continue to bring you down even after she's gone. You are capable of love. You're the best friend I've ever had and have been able to put up with me as a partner for over a decade. That's love Liv."

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	10. Chapter 10

**Breaking the Habit**

**Chapter 10**

His words pretty much finished her off, reducing her to tears once more as she lowered herself back down on to the couch beside him and leaning into his embrace. He held her in the way that only he ever had, the way that helped her to feel safe and secure. It felt so good to be not only back in his arms, but to have their friendship back on an even keel. Being at each others throats as they had been she'd felt like she was losing him and coming so soon after the death of her mother, when things were already so complicated, that had felt like the end of the world to her, a fact she hesitantly shared with him.

He looked almost guilty when she said it, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead, a sad expression on his face, "Liv, you're not losing me. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, but," he added, giving a wry smile, "you make it much easier for me to be there for you when you actually confide in me."

Touché

"It was just difficult." She explained, "I was embarrassed about the drinking and the religious aspects of the case didn't help." She took a deep breath, "I need to explain to you, about Catholic school, about why I never told you."

He tried to silence her, tried to tell her that she didn't owe him any kind of explanation, but she had to tell him, feeling it was the only real barrier still between them. She pulled away from him and then choosing her words carefully, started to explain, "I couldn't tell you that I was educated in that way because of what it did to me. I know how important your faith is to you, and I wasn't going to trash it in front of you. Better to be disinterested by it than disgusted by it I thought." She didn't look at him as she said it because she was almost scared of his reaction, terrified they would end up in another fight because of it, but when Elliot's only response was silence she forced her eyes upwards warily, but to her surprise his eyes were full of sympathy.

"What did they do to you Liv?"

She shrugged, "You don't want to hear it."

He reached out, took her hands in his, "Yeah, I do."

In spite of his reassurances to the contrary she still wasn't sure that he did, but he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer and so in the end she felt she had to give him one, even though her heart was in her throat as she did so, waiting, yet again for another argument to follow.

"I was only kid in the whole class without a father, which didn't matter so much to the other kids at 6 but the older we got, the more brainwashed they got, the more of an issue it became. I was an outsider in my class, and constantly persecuted by the nuns. My background made me rotten to the core in their eyes and they were determined to make me pay for it." She sighed, "Sins of the father and all that."

Elliot pulled her to him again, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "I'm devout Liv, I believe in the teachings of the Catholic Church but even I can see that sometimes, the church takes the bible too literally, maybe even more so in the past." He smiled weakly, "I was looking over Deuteronomy after you out quoted me the other day, and you know there's a passage in their that suggests that a rapist's penance should be being forced to marry their victims." He stroked her hair, "Pretty ludicrous huh?"

She looked up at him, bemused by his comments, "Did my partner, Elliot Stabler, just refer to the bible as 'ludicrous'?"

He shook his head, "Not at all, just that particular literal interpretation of it. Liv, I'm not going to stop believing because you had a bad time at school, but that doesn't mean I'm not sympathetic to what you went through because it obviously really hurt you."

It felt good that they were able to have the conversation, even more so that they were able to have it without jumping down each other's throats. Perhaps, with the religion issue out in the open, they'd find it easier to deal with in the future. Olivia hoped so anyway.

"Anyway," Elliot said, breaking into her thoughts, "tell me what happened? How you and your school eventually parted ways."

Olivia felt herself blushing a little at his question, "They thought I was the spawn of the Devil and in the end I decided I might as well act that way. I got in to fights, piled on the make up, rolled up my skirts and made out with the janitor but my real piece de resistance, was getting my nose pierced for photo day. That was when I was asked to leave."

Elliot laughed, "I'm not surprised, but I bet it made you happy yeah?"

She nodded in response, remembering the cartwheels she'd turned when she'd finally been expelled. Her grandparents were livid, but she'd never been happier.

And that was all they really felt they needed to say on the subject and so they just stayed cuddled up in a companionable silence, feeling like a big black cloud had been lifted from over their friendship. Soon after the girls came back in to find out if Olivia was staying for dinner, and then Dickie and Elizabeth were finally allowed to join them, and although she knew it was only temporary Olivia loved being made part of their family, and spending a normal relaxed evening with them, particularly after all the traumas of the previous week.

It was only later that night, once the children had all gone to bed, and she returned from showering to find Elliot setting up the sofa bed for her that the subject of those traumas re arose.

"I've been thinking." Elliot said, as he threw the duvet over the makeshift bed and plumped up the pillows, "About what you said earlier; about your mom and photos of you. There's something I want you to see." He sat down on the bed, and patted the space beside him, and once she'd sat down next to him he took his wallet from his pocket, opened it and pulled out two photos he kept in the front. He handed the first picture to her and she wasn't surprised to see it was of Kathy and his four children. "This is my wife and kids." He said, although it needed no explanation. Then he handed her the second photo, "And this is my best friend."

She stared down the photo in her hand, and started to laugh, "Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment Elliot, but why the hell this photo?" She looked at it again, taking in her fishnet tights, garish make up, virtually non existent skirt and dangerously high stilettos, "I look like a working girl."

"It's the only one I've got." Elliot told her, laughing too then, "And I think that was the general idea. We were on an operation in the red light district. It was the night I was playing your pimp."

She shook her head, "Well, classy. But seriously El, why have a photo of me at all?"

"Because" he replied gently, and suddenly the tone of the conversation was serious once more, "you're a huge part of my life Liv, why wouldn't I have it?"

Her eyes filled with tears again then as she was overwhelmed by the tenderness in his voice and how much he obviously cared about her. She handed the photo back to him, "Thank you."

He leant over then, kissed her on the cheek, "No, thank you for being my partner and my friend." He hugged her, "You should get into bed, and then I've got something else to show you. Although," he grinned, "only if you promise not to cry again."

He disappeared from the room then, and while he was gone, Olivia did as he'd suggested and climbed under the covers, suddenly drained and exhausted and ready to sleep. Even without closing her eyes she knew it was going to be a more restful night than any of the others that had preceded it.

Elliot returned, perching on the bed beside her and then handing her a crumpled piece of lined paper. She stared down at it and read the title out loud.

"My role model by Maureen Stabler." She looked at her partner, a little bemused, "What is this?"

He grinned, "Read on."

"My role model is my dad's partner Olivia. She's works with my dad solving crimes, and he says she's really tough but also really kind to the people who get hurt. She carries a badge and gun and is real good at kicking bad guys asses." She laughed slightly, glancing at Elliot, "When did she write this?"

"When she was 11."

She carried on reading, a smile spreading across her face, "I think it's cool that she can be so hard and rough but still be really pretty. She has the most fabulous clothes and really funky hair. I hope I can be like Olivia when I grow up because she's amazing." Her voice cracked a little at the end and as hard as she tried to stop it a tear slipped down her cheek.

"I said no crying." Elliot chided her gently, "Tough girls who kick bad guys asses aren't allowed to cry." He wiped the tear from her face, "Don't ever think you've got nothing to pass on Liv, because it's a million miles away from being true. My kids adore you, and don't you forget it."

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

Olivia woke next morning to find the sun streaming through the Stabler's living room windows and Maureen standing in the doorway with a mug of coffee in her hand. She sat up, wincing slightly, although noting that her headache wasn't as bad as it had been the last few mornings. She smiled at Maureen, remembering the essay from the night before all over again,

"Hey, come on in."

Maureen handed Olivia the coffee and then sat on the edge of the bed just as Elliot had the night before. "I thought you could use some."

Olivia took the mug from her, drinking from it gratefully since although it wasn't the worst hangover she'd had that week, the coffee was still both needed and appreciated it. As she drank she became aware that Maureen was watching her closely, looking like she wanted to say something, and eventually when Olivia's mug was empty, she finally plucked up the courage to do so.

"Are you better today?"

Olivia nodded, because she did feel better. She was still ashamed of everything that had happened in the early part of the day before, but the talk with Elliot had done wonders, so much so that she regretted the fact she'd not confided him before. "Much better thank you." She cleared her throat nervously, "Maureen, the state I was in yesterday, I'm so embarrassed you saw me looking that way."

The younger girl smiled, "Don't be embarrassed. You just lost your mom. If my mom had just died, I'd probably have gotten drunk too."

She knew the girl was only trying to reassure her, but somehow the acknowledgement of how obviously drunk she'd been just made her feel worse, especially since she knew that at one point she'd been her role model; it just made her feel like the mighty fallen.

"I just don't want you to think," she said softly, "that getting drunk is acceptable. Its not."

Maureen smiled, "You don't think my mom and dad drill that into me ALL the time? I know it's not acceptable, but I also know people do it, for all kinds of reasons."

"Do you drink?" Olivia asked her hesitantly, wondering if she might get told to mind her own business, but instead Maureen just nodded in response,

"Sometimes, when I'm out with my friends, yeah, I do."

Olivia thought back to the day before, to the bar and to 'Jesus'; how close she'd come to letting him do something she'd have lived to regret. She took a deep breath, "Just promise me that you'll always be careful if you get drunk ok? Never let anyone take advantage of the state you're in."

"I promise." Maureen replied, looking at Olivia knowingly, "Is that what happened to you yesterday? Did someone hurt you?"

"I can't talk to you about that." Olivia said firmly, because there was no way she was about to share that story with anyone, least of all her partner's daughter, "But if you're ever drunk and someone hassles you, you call me ok. And I'll kick their ass and then take you home."

Maureen laughed then, "Dad told me you read my essay but," her smile faded, as she acknowledged the seriousness of what Olivia was saying, "Of course I'll call you. I'll try never to get in that position anyway of course, but if I need you, I'll pick up the phone and call."

She didn't want to patronize Maureen, but Olivia was so impressed by her maturity that she felt she had to say something.

"I'm so proud of you." She said hesitantly, "You've turned into such a beautiful young woman, both inside and out. Don't ever let anything change you will you, because you're wonderful."

Maureen smiled, "That means a hell of a lot coming from you. I think you're amazing. I always have."

"This is turning into quite a love fest." Elliot said, appearing in the room, which no doubt, Olivia figured, he'd been eavesdropping outside of the whole time. He looked at Olivia, "You got any more advice for my daughter; she obviously looks up to you."

Olivia opened her mouth to say that she'd got nothing, but then she realized that if nothing else the last week had left her with one piece of wisdom she could pass on.

"Don't be scared to ask for help if you need it," She said to Maureen, although it was Elliot's eyes she met as she did so, "let your friends in, let them be there for you and remember that they only ever get pissed at you because they care."

*** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU *** L&OSVU **

Olivia was the first one in work the next day, determined to get on top of the paperwork that she'd let slip over the previous week and to prove to her squad once and for all that she was back on form. That said, before she got on with her paperwork there was one other thing she wanted to do, a task she'd just completed when Elliot walked through the door to the squad room.

He smiled when he saw her, greeting her warmly, a real turn around from the way things had been. As he sat at his desk she got up from her own and went to perch on his, suddenly feeling a little shy and awkward. Elliot must have sensed as much because he smiled at her reassuringly, "What's up Liv?"

"I got you something." She said, faltering slightly, before pushing the wallet sized photo she'd just printed into his hands, "I hope you don't mind, but I was wondering if you'd replace the hooker picture with this one." She bit her lip, feeling slightly overwhelmed, "It would mean a lot to me."

Elliot looked down at the picture, smiling as he saw the image of the younger Olivia in uniform, holding up her badge, "This is your academy graduation photo right?"

She nodded, too close to tears to risk speaking. She'd taken the picture of the photo she'd brought for her mother the night before, shrinking it on the computer and printing it when she'd arrived at work that morning. Now she felt a bit silly for asking Elliot to keep it but at the same time, it felt good too, just to have someone to ask.

He took his wallet out of his pocket and with another smile slotted the photo into it, "I'd love to have it Liv. It would be an absolute honor." He must have sensed she was close to tears because he followed up with a joke, "But the hooker photo stays too, cos you look hot in those stilettos."

They were laughing over his comment when the Captain walked through the door, and although normally finding two detectives in a warm embrace might not have been appropriate, Cragen couldn't help smiling as he saw them,

"Ah, good. Back to normal are we?" He asked, referring as much to the fact that Olivia looked bright eyed and ready for work, as much as the apparently renewed friendship between the two of them. Olivia figured as much because she quickly moved away from Elliot and approached her boss.

"Sir, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. It hasn't been a good week and I haven't been myself, and I'm aware of that, and I promise it won't happen again."

He smiled at her warmly, shaking her apologies away, "Olivia, its fine. You've broken the habit, that's all that matters.

**THE END.**

**Please Review and thank you for reading!**


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